


Born to be Wild

by Gia279



Series: Practice Ficlets [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Artist!Derek, Ficlet, Human AU, M/M, One Shot, Piano Bar, pianist!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:52:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gia279/pseuds/Gia279
Summary: He leaned in to his mic. "Alright, ladies, gents, and otherwise, we have a request. Now, my regulars know I don't sing, for good reason."





	Born to be Wild

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** “A strange request in a piano bar” 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy! I know it's short?? Ish?? But. Still practicing. LMK what you think!

"Hey," Allison said. "Ten o'clock." She nodded and set a drink on the bench next to Stiles.

He glanced at the man she'd nodded toward, a handsome dark haired stranger, then down at the napkin under the glass. Most patrons at _Howl_ wrote their requests on napkins, but they also tended to bring them up themselves. He lifted the napkin, then barked out a laugh. He glanced up and saw the patron smirking. 

He lifted his glass and nodded at Stiles, which made him grin. 

He leaned in to his mic. "Alright, ladies, gents, and otherwise, we have a request. Now, my regulars know I don't sing, for good reason." He waited until the amused titters died down. "But let's see if you can guess the song. Drink on me to whoever recognizes it first." He leaned back, took a drink of the whisky Allison had brought, and began to play. 

It took a second, but Stiles didn't mind, let himself enjoy the change in pace from the usual classical and low tunes. 

Someone at the bar laughed and called out, "Born to be wild!" and then a few others began to sing along. 

Six classic rock requests later, someone set a shiny red apple on the bench next to Stiles. "Take your lunch," Isaac said, nudging his shoulder. 

"Weird crowd tonight," Stiles warned. "Good luck." He snatched up the apple and took a bite, starving. As he stood, he nearly knocked into someone. "Whoops," he said around a mouthful of apple. "Sorry. Oh, hey. Steppenwolf." 

The man laughed shyly, at odds with his earlier, confident smirk. "I usually just go by Derek."

"Right." Stiles took another bite and patted Isaac's shoulder. "Well, I hope you enjoyed it." 

"I did. I was wondering if you'd let me buy you dinner." 

Stiles blinked at him. "I actually get a free meal every shift." 

Derek's face fell. "Right. Sorry to bother you." 

"But we could share a table," Stiles blurted, feeling bad.

"You don't have to," he said firmly, his cheeks pink. "I shouldn't have- you're working, obviously, I shouldn't-"

"It's fine." It wasn't like it'd be a hardship, and his stammering was cute. Plus, he wasn't trying to get Stiles alone or anything. They'd be in full sight of staff and patrons. "I'm going to table twelve. Come on. Allison will bring out my food in a minute, we can talk." 

Allison brought an extra plate for Derek and winked at Stiles when she left. 

"You're really great at that," Derek said, nodding toward the piano where Isaac was listening to a request. 

"Thanks. Lydia insisted on a piano instead of a keyboard, which is what I started on. I get better tips on the piano, I think." He shrugged. "Oh, Lydia owns the place," he explained. 

"I see. Do you only play here?"

Stiles nodded, holding up a finger to finish chewing the bite he'd taken. "Yeah, just here." He made a face. "Though sometimes I get offers for, ah, _private sessions_ that I have to turn down." He put his fork in his mouth, then frowned thoughtfully around it. "Once I did do a—I don't know why I'm telling you that. Awkward. Sorry." He laughed and took another bite to cover his embarrassment. "So, new to the area?"

"Sort of," Derek replied. "I'm from Beacon Hills, but I've been living with my sister in San Francisco. It's changed." He swept his gaze over the dining room. 

"Yeah definitely, but, you know, I think it's good change." Stiles kept eating. He had an hour to eat, but it was good and he was starving. 

"Can I draw you?" The request was spoken in an undertone, and Derek's gaze was on the table. He twirled a napkin nervously between his fingers. 

Stiles choked on a piece of pasta. "I—what?" He grabbed his glass and took a drink of water. When he could breathe, he tried again. "You—? What?" 

"Not nude or anything weird. I just wanted to draw you at the piano, but I wanted to ask first, because I would have to be close. And staring. And I didn't want to be rude."

Stiles eyed him. "Nothing weird?"

"No. I just wanted to sketch you, and I did, but it's not..." He looked frustrated. "I'd rather try something more detailed. You won't notice me. If you're okay with it, that is," he added quickly.

Stiles sighed, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. And here he'd been thinking Derek liked him. "Sure," he decided. "There are stools and chairs and stuff near the piano. Set up wherever you want." 

Derek smiled. "Thank you."

 

It turned out, Derek liked to sing while he drew, picking up whatever tune Stiles was playing almost as soon as he heard the first note and singing along. His voice was fucking angelic. 

Lydia added him to the payroll and stuck a mic in front of him within a month. Within two, the whole place was decorated with hand drawn black and white pictures of the staff, and by three, Derek and Stiles moved in together.


End file.
